User blog:Psychomantis108/Story: Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - Chapter 1: Orsimer Charge
Author Notes Hey, I noticed that we had a culture of making weekly chapters into stories for a while but it didn't last very long. I'm hoping to revive it, with this project, which continues Holywyvern's defunked RP 'Myths of Mundas' and not only continues the story but expands it as well. It tells the story of Bologra Blackbeard and his dark pilgrimage. I hope to make this into a weekly thing but I hate to be burdened by deadlines, I'd rather release stuff when I'm ready, even if that means that they take longer. When all of the chapters are published (I believe that there will be five), then I'll put them all together and make them into an article. I decided to use the blogs, since you can get feedback, via the comments, I used to post stories on other sites but I rarely got feedback and the feedback that I did get was... attrociously bad advice. I'll see how well this does, if it works out okay, I might do more and hopefully, so will others and if not? Then... No harm done, the main goal of this is to really complete Bologra's story, since I always wanted to tell it properly. :) Annieway, no more stalling... Chapter 1: Orsimer Charge Arlas burst into the infirmary, slamming her stick-like forearms into the doors and gasping as they opened, with a loud ‘bang.’ The Bosmer did not appreciate having to wear these priest’s robes in the heat, air didn’t circulate inside them and it made rushing from one part of town to another feel like some sort of test. If this is some sort of test, then the young initiate has failed it, horribly… Not that it’s her fault of course, the heat was the to blame as well as the dozens of clueless twits in the market district, shuffling about like cattle being lead to greener pastures. She still did all that she could and didn’t even stop to help that merchant pick up his merchandise, after she was knocked into his stall. She left him there, screaming about his precious cabbages, so that she could attend her spiritual duties. She just hoped that it was something worthy of her time. If it was just one of the older priests, needing someone to run over to the tobacco stall for him, then she would quite happily strip off, throw her robes in the old geezer’s face and then march out and join a daedric cult out of spite. She’d sacrifice virgins and eat babies and then the priests would think twice about sending their initiates out to do pointless, meaningless tasks and wasting their time, by asking them to stand about and do nothing for the best part of twenty minutes. The Bosmer, in spite of the fact that she was doubting as to whether or not this was worth her time or not, continued to press on to heed the call of her superior. She pushed through the tight corridors of the infirmary, pressing herself against the walls and sliding along them as others tried to pass. She didn’t want to stop but she also didn’t want to force them to stand aside. Thankfully, due to her small stature, she didn’t have to do either… After running up a flight of stairs, she finally burst into the room and immediately doubled over, panting heavily as she placed her hands on her knees, several of the breaths sounded like heaves as she did not take well to exercise. The Priest, who had summoned her, an elderly Imperial man slowly turned around and sighed as he stood up before he slowly approached the young Bosmer, keeping his arms tucked into his sleeves and his composure was immaculate, it was as if he was doing it just to spite Arlas. “Arlas…” He began, though he was cut off as the Bosmer raised her hand in front of her face and quickly threw her head back, knocking her hood off of her head. She appeared to have her hair done in a Mohawk style, which was braided on the back of her head into three strands of platted hair. The Bosmer looked up, with her red eyes and incredibly red face as she caught her breath, still holding her hand up to pause the routine scolding. “Market stalls…” She explained in one breathless word as she felt her vision began to dim, most would take it as a sign that she needed to do more exercise but she took it as a sign that she needed to rip the sleeves off of her robes and that the Priests needed to give her more notice. “Yes, the bane of apprentices everywhere…” The Imperial mocked, placing his hands in his large sleeves again as he looked down on the Bosmeri apprentice, wondering what they would do with her. Arlas, for her oddness and unorthodox attitude, was actually a gifted healer and a great spell caster. She favoured conjuration, saying that she ‘liked that weird shit,’ a comment that was swiftly responded to with a whack on the knuckles, with a ruler. Still, the enthusiasm was appreciated… “Well, I’m afraid that I no longer require your talents, I was forced to deal with the situation myself.” The Imperial explained, prompting Arlas’ eyes to widen as she almost blew her lid. Don’t they have messenger birds, couldn’t someone have greeted her at the door? The Bosmer wanted to yell or get stripping… However, the Bosmer remembered where she was and the sting of the ruler and quickly simmered down… “Erm… Sorry, I did come as quick as I could, Father Lorius, I swear…” She replied, sounding somewhat guilty for it as she began to rub the back of her neck and her eyes slowly trailed away towards the floor. “Fear not… I wouldn’t have asked but it was short notice, incredibly so…” “Hmm?” Arlas asked, looking a little confused and more so intrigued. “What happened?” The Priest gave her a respectful nod and slowly stepped aside, sliding his hand from out of his sleeve and gesturing towards the bed, which was heavily stained with blood, from where its sole occupant had bled out. She timidly approached and saw that the patient was an Orsimer, a giant, mountain of a man, who appeared to be missing his hand... “G-Gods…” Arlas whispered, looking back to Father Lorius for an explanation, it was clear that the stump had been cauterized before being healed and now they just had to wait for him to wake… “He stumbled in here, less than an hour ago, with no hand…” He began to explain, slowly approaching as he he stood by the tower’s bedside. “From the looks of it, it was a pretty clean cut, maybe from an axe or a piece of machinery, like a forge?” The Imperial thought on it, it was possible that he was a blacksmith or something, and ended up cutting his own hand off with a piece of machinery. Though, nobody here recognised him, which kind of debunked that theory, since most of the priests knew the local merchants well. He was more likely a mercenary but surely the guards would have intervened in such a high stake fight. “Hmm… Maybe he was an arena contestant?” Arlas suggested which also seemed pretty logical to her, though, then again the arena fights are to the death and they probably have their own medical staff on standby or they would at least send for the Priests at the temple. They wouldn’t just let someone wander out, with one hand, would they? “Hmm… Possibly? I admit, I’m somewhat curious as to how it happened myself… It was either a nasty accident or a fight and looking at the size of the man and his… Other scars, I can’t help but make my assumptions…” Arlas nodded, respectfully and turned back to the charge, examining his face, in the hopes of getting more clues. He was in his twenties or thirties, it was hard to tell as he looked quite weathered and his beard obscured most of his face. He had his hair done in a corn row style, with a large bushy, black goatee beard… He looked like he could crush someone her size in the palm of his hand, whoever did this to him either got lucky or was an even bigger hulk than he was… “Did he say anything before he passed out?” Arlas asked, folding her arms as she observed the sleeping Orc, who seemed almost lifeless and his breath grew heavier and heavier. Father Lorius slowly reached for his eyes as she observed and shook his head; it was obvious that all of that healing magic had taken its toll on him… “Arlas? Do you think that you could watch over him for a bit? My mind isn’t what it used to be and… Well, I’d prefer to go to sleep, knowing that he’s in good hands.” The Bosmer was surprised at the compliment, though he was most likely trying to butter her up, so that she’d agree to it but still, she knew that the words weren’t exactly hollow and empty. She eventually nodded in agreement, seemingly happy at the fact that she was given some form of responsibility. She could catch up on her reading and… Well… This room was a lot cooler than it was outside, thanks to the breeze blowing in, through the open window. “Erm… Sure thing, Lorius, I have some reading to do anyway…” She shrugged, giving him a smile as she took a seat in the corner of the room, crossing one leg over the other as she drew out her book. The Elder Imperial Priest smiled at her and gave her a respectful nod, relieved that he would be able to get some rest for an hour or two and hopefully by able to get back before the giant wakes up… “Oh… Alas?” He asked pausing to turn around; this got the Bosmer’s attention and prompted her to lower her book, glancing up to the Priest, with a look of confusion. “If he wakes… And he’s… Unruly...” “Paralysis scroll, I know…” Arlas replied, giving him a smirk and gesturing towards the front door before bringing her book back up to her face. She was eager to get through it by sundown, to free up her evening… Lorius forced a smile in response, it was difficult, due to the fact that he was exhausted, before he left, secretly worrying for apprentice… And even moreso for her charge… Category:Blog posts Category:Stories Category:The Legend of Nirn